


Shall We Dance

by FandomTrashbag



Series: Pieces of Cake [7]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: King and I, Laundromat Shenanigans, camping laundry, god i'm bad at tagging, more music in my fics, toby and robert get honorable mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrashbag/pseuds/FandomTrashbag
Summary: In which Jareth is baffled at laundromats and not-so-secretly loves french fries.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Series: Pieces of Cake [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772494
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Shall We Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno why I wanted to write this, but I did. Harmless fun, more gratiuitous use of music because I'm basic (you can pretty much bet that if I'm going to work a song or two into a fic, it's gonna be the title). This is loosely based off something me, my mom, and my sister used to do when I was a kid.
> 
> Every time we went camping, we'd take all the sleeping bags to the laundromat because the machines were bigger so it could all be done in one load. We'd waste a couple hours together as a family. Being in a small town meant there weren't usually more than one or two other people in there, so we would usually pick up Wienerschitzel on the way, or Mom would send one of us a block over to the Burger King and we'd hang out and eat fast food while we did laundry. I haven't been camping, with or without my family, in a good 15+ years and I kind of miss it, so this might be my nostalgia talking with my hopeless romance mixed in.

“Say again why is it you do this  _ here _ ?” he gestured to the now-empty room.

The last stragglers of the facility had left around half an hour ago and Sarah had been by herself since. She never expected him to show up, but had left a note as to her whereabouts just in case he popped by her apartment.

“I’m not mistaken in remembering you have perfectly good machines at your home for this very purpose.” He almost sounded put off at being there and she briefly wondered why he’d come at all.

She had only just gotten back with a paper bag of fast food in hand, part of her little ritual. At his voice, she dislodged one of her earbuds in acknowledgement of his presence. An amused smirk graced her face as she looked up at him, continuing to pull out paper trays with hot fries and a couple of burgers wrapped in their own paper and put them on the folding counter. At least he had kept his attire human-appropriate, wearing linen lounge pants and a simple v-neck shirt.

He sat cross-legged across the top of a washing machine, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his hand, looking down at her with a flat expression. Vaguely, he remembered her mentioning this habit of hers in the past but he’d never interrupted it. It felt so incredibly…  _ human  _ (really, the whole concept of consciously washing laundry was pedestrian, but he supposed that was a result of being a monarch for so long), and it was something he usually left her to. After a long week without seeing her, however, he was determined to spend this evening in her company, even if it meant spending a couple of hours late at night in a 24-hour laundromat.

“It was something Dad and I used to do after camping when I was younger and I just never stopped,” she shrugged, popping a fry into her mouth. She turned around and lifted herself to sit on the counter; no attendants meant there was no one to yell at her for sitting on the folding tables (or Jareth on the machine, for that matter). She felt, more than saw, Jareth unfold his legs and drape them over the side of the machine to hug either side of her as she scooted back to lean against the side of the washer he sat on. She noticed casual canvas slip-ons covering his feet.

He took the tray of fries she now proffered him and set them next to him, silently contemplating why strips of fried potatoes were so delicious.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but why not do this in the comfort of your home? I certainly understand if one doesn’t have facilities of their own, but you do. Not to mention, you have other options that require no work at all.” His free hand, that is the one not currently and shamelessly shoveling fries into his mouth, dropped into her line of sight to wiggle his fingers in front of her face.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, taking the headphones out of her phone to let her music play for them both. “Not everyone has magic hands, as you so helpfully pointed out.” She grabbed at his wagging fingers, threading them with her own and bringing them down to rest on her shoulder. Her head tilted back and up to rest on his thigh as she looked up at him. “It’s just… a kind of tradition. Taking all the camping washables and sleeping bags to the laundromat was time Dad and I spent together. I  _ do _ have fond memories from my childhood, you know.” She munched on a few more fries. “Plus,” she said pausing to swallow, “these commercial machines are bigger. It means I can fit everything in one load.”

There had been another camping trip with her friends this last week while Jareth had been busy; she even managed to drag Toby along, which had made for more dusty laundry than usual. The trips were fewer these days, and her time with Toby even less, but she still involved this practice every time. Since Robert had passed a few years prior, she had tried to get Toby to join her, but he barely managed the time off to go on the trips at all, let alone stick around for any kind of ritual afterwards. This just meant these experiences remained hers. There had always been an evening at the laundromat, washing sleeping bags and blankets in oversized washers and eating junk food.

Jareth bent forward and brought their lightly clasped hands up to kiss her knuckles. “It is more than the banality of the act itself that has prompted me to leave you alone to this these past years. Perhaps I should tease you about it a little less.”

She smiled weakly at him, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go to reach over and offer him a wrapped burger.

“Making new memories doesn’t negate old ones. Just doing this serves to remind me of him, that’s what’s important. Speaking of having company, what  _ are _ you doing here? Surely you have better places to be than a Fluff’n’Fold at midnight.”

He teasingly gave the wrapped food offered to him a wary expression, even though he’d grudgingly expressed his enjoyment of it in the past.

“I’m sure I do. Why are you so surprised? You did leave a note for me, after all.” He unwrapped his sandwich and made sure she was looking at her own before taking a bite and letting his eyes close in a small moment of indulgence.

She snorted. “It was more a ‘just in case’ thought when I wrote it, really. I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Maybe just a bit of wishful thinking,” she suggested.

“The same ‘wishful thinking’ that made you decide to get food for two, I suspect.”

She realized he wasn’t far from the truth with that. Part of her  _ had _ hoped his kingly duties would prove to let up for the night. Looking at the pile of camping laundry reminded her it needed doing, however, so she’d settled to do that instead of waiting around hoping. Leaving the note, and subsequently ordering extra fries, had merely been lingering optimism that she might be able to share this small aspect of her life. Knowing his insistence on leaving her “her own things,” she didn;t actually expect to see him even if he found the time.

Her head turned just a little and she planted a small kiss on the side of his knee. “Regardless, I’m decidedly pleased you’re here.”

He hummed in response and crossed his ankles in her lap, wrapping her with his long legs. “There are few places I’d rather be, Precious, but they all involve you.”

She smiled at that and they ate in companionable silence, wordless music soothing over the insistent tumble of the dryer across from them.

After several minutes of watching the timer countdown, Sarah hopped off the counter to start folding sheets and blankets at the sound of the buzzer. Eventually, Jareth climbed down and began to help, much to her surprise. He took hold of the opposing corners of the old blanket she was folding and turned it into a two-person job. Sarah laughed softly at the sight as he held the fabric taught and brought the corners together in tandem with her.

“What?” he asked incredulously with an eyebrow raised. “You assume I’ve never folded linens?” He walked towards her to bring their sides together, his fingers briefly clasping over hers and he handed off his section of blanket.

“It’s not that,” she said defensively. “Okay, maybe a little. Forgive me for finding it amusing that the King of the Goblins is helping me fold laundry.”

He bent slightly, picking up the new dangling corners of the blanket to step back and repeat the motion, compacting the fabric until she took it from him to fold one last time and set it aside. On his own, he turned to fish the last sheet from the dryer and she eventually followed suit, stretching the old cotton taught.

“Well, I did pledge to be your slave,” he teased with a wry smile.

She looked down and blushed a little, the same way she always did whenever he brought up their first adventure.

“Plus,” he said softly as he approached her, “stepping to and fro is a bit like a dance, is it not?” He took the half folded sheet from her to drape over the counter and swept her up into a silly jaunt of a waltz as the music playing changed to an instrumental version of “Shall We Dance.”

She squealed in surprise and held fast to him, picking up his lead quick enough as he bounced them around the row of washing machines in time with the music. He led them hopping in circles around the empty facility, delighting in her unchecked laughter before slowing down next to their folding counter and lifting her off the ground to spin her in one last circle as the music died down. She forced herself to stop laughing long enough to catch her breath as he sat her back on her feet.

For just a moment, she smiled up at him, her chest still heaving with deep breaths and her palms flat against his chest as he kept firm hold around her waist. She extended her neck just enough to kiss him firmly in thanks, unable to keep the smile from her lips even as she occupied them.

“What was that for?” he asked, residual laughter present in his tone.

She shook her head slightly. “Just a thank you. For the new memories to go with the old ones.”

When she turned to move away from him to finish taking care of the laundry, she saw it already folded and packed neatly in the laundry bag she’d brought it in. She opened her mouth to question him, but he snatched her back to hold her back against his front, burying his face in her neck amongst the hair that had fallen out of her loose bun with the exertion of dancing.

“Magic is cheating,” she teased.

He hummed pleasantly against her skin. “It is the product of impatience. I’d much rather finish here and take you home where I can show you just how magic these hands are.”

With that, he reached over to place a hand on her bag and silently wished them back up the road to her small apartment, himself.


End file.
